


you saw enough

by perfectlystill



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, i'm not really sure what this is, mentions of violence/torture/murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 13:39:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2583362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlystill/pseuds/perfectlystill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>What about Raven?</i>
</p>
<p>She thinks she already knows, when she asks. If Raven was here, Clarke would have seen her already.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you saw enough

_What about Raven?_

She thinks she already knows, when she asks. If Raven was here, Clarke would have seen her already. 

Raven was on the dropship with them. She was dying, a bullet lodged in her spine that Clarke wouldn't have been able to get out, her back turning black and blue. Clarke's hands would have shook and she would have had to take a deep breath to forcibly still them. Clarke's not sure she would even have tried to remove the bullet. She doesn't think she could have handled Raven dying with her hands on her.

Bellamy and Finn could've run; they could've gotten away. Raven was in the dropship, and if she was alive, she'd be here. 

Clarke accepts the answer. 

She accepts that Raven is dead.

 

 

 

Clarke has things to do. 

She has to break out of Mount Weather and she has to save her people: The people with her, the people who don't believe they're in danger, and the people she believes must be out there, the people who must believe they're in danger.

She has to believe Bellamy and Finn are out there, that there are survivors from the Ark.

She does not have time to sit and think about how Raven was here and now she's not. 

She didn't have time to think about how Wells was here and now he's not, either. 

She doesn't have time, and she has to keep moving, but when she closes her eyes and the darkness encroaches, she sees them. She sees them and she wakes with a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest. 

She does not have time to think about it. 

Clarke has things to do.

 

 

 

She runs into guards with guns. 

Anya has left her alone -- this is the nice way of putting it, really. Anya ran and used Clarke as a distraction to run, to save herself from the reapers . Anya doesn't trust her or like her. Anya knows her way around, so she left her. War prize be damned.

Clarke doesn't care. She doesn't have enough left in her to care.

The sky is black and the stars are bright and death may have taken a lot of things from her, but Clarke feels determination pounding against her ribs, feels anger when she clenches her hands into fists. 

Death has taken a lot, but it has not taken her will to survive. 

The guards don't recognize her at first and a shot goes off, barely missing her head. 

"Don't," she says, firm and quiet and demanding. 

"Who's there?" someone asks.

"Clarke." She uncurls her fists and steps forward.

 

 

 

Clarke doesn't like the way the guard flanks her on the way back to camp.

It doesn't feel like protection.

The fire of the camp is warm and consuming and she sees it from too far away. "You're wasting wood and making yourselves vulnerable to attack," she says.

"We're keeping ourselves warm," a guard responds.

"It won't matter when you're dead."

 

 

 

Her mom rushes toward her and then slows, pauses a few feet away.

Clarke presses her mouth together and swallows.

She missed her.

They approach each other slowly, like they're scared, like they don't quite know each other anymore.

That's true, Clarke thinks. She hugs her anyway.

Blinking back tears, she focusing on breathing, deep and even, her mother crying against her shoulder.

 

 

 

She doesn't sleep that night even though her mother shows her to a sleeping bag and tells her she should get some rest. "I'll show you around camp tomorrow." There's hope in her still wet eyes.

Clarke tries to smile.

She walks around, attempts to ease the fire down before she's told to stop.

She feels restless. She's home but she's not _home_.

Her mother assured her that Bellamy and Finn are alive, that they're out doing reconnaissance. The way she says it makes Clarke narrow her eyes, but she's too tired to ask. She doesn't think her mother would lie to her, but she doesn't trust her either.

She finds Raven's red jacket in a small pile of clothing she digs through around the time dawn starts to break. Clarke runs her fingers over the warn fabric. It's soft. When she takes her own coat off and slips Raven's on, it's tight. Clarke closes her eyes, takes in a shaky breath and wills herself not to cry. She swallows around the lump in her throat, pulls the sleeves of her shirt down over her palms and keeps walking.

 

 

 

She's sitting outside and squinting against the sun when she sees Raven waddling toward her.

Clarke blinks and rubs at her forehead. Her head is pounding with lack of sleep and, for a second, she thinks she might be hallucinating.

"Clarke," Raven says. She waves at her like maybe Clarke doesn't see her.

Clarke cries.

She stands up and pulls Raven to her, slams their bodies together and holds onto her as though she's the first familiar thing Clarke has seen in weeks. She smells like burning wood and her body feels so frail. Clarke wonders if her body was this frail before -- before Anya left a long scar on Clarke's arm, before Mount Weather, before Raven came down like a shooting star.

She holds Raven's face between her hands and Raven smiles. Then she laughs uncomfortably. "What? Something on my face?"

"I missed you," Clarke says.

She can't bring herself to say, "I thought you were dead."

 

 

 

Clarke makes her mother explain Raven's surgery to her in detail. She wants to know what happened, and she wants to know what she should have done.

"Thank you," Clarke says.

Her mother looks at her warily, like she can't quite figure out what has changed.

 

 

 

It's four days until Finn and Bellamy are back.

Clarke spends it briefing her mother on everything she knows about Mount Weather. She spends it feeling like everyone's eyes are on her, waiting for her snap. She spends it watching Raven work, deft hands that blur when Clarke forgets to blink. She sleeps next to Raven. Only gets a few hours each night. It's better than nothing.

When Clarke lies awake, she feels like she's planning another escape.

 

 

 

Bellamy and Finn walk back into camp, both moving slow. Bellamy calls her princess and hugs her. There's an affection there that makes Clarke smile small.

He looks at her like he knows they can't stay here. They can't live in Camp Jaha and pretend that this is what they want. She's so grateful she almost cries -- Clarke feels like she's always on the brink of crying.

Finn gives her her father's watch. It leaves an indent around his wrist, angry and red.

There's anger in Finn that Clarke forgot was there, but now it's visible on his face. She almost flinches when he touches her.

It's then she realizes that her mother has been doing the same with her.

 

 

 

When she goes down on Raven, Clarke's entire body feels too hot, like the fire inside her is burning her up.

She likes that Raven is quiet. She likes listening to the way Raven's breathing changes, quickens and then catches in her throat. She likes licking at Raven's cunt and crooking a finger inside her. And she likes when Raven says her name, breathy and wrecked.

Raven's hands are in her hair, almost forceful.

Clarke likes the way Raven's body arches when she comes.

Clarke thinks, if she knew how to live without the burden of leadership weighing heavy on her shoulders, if she could carve out a space for just the two of them, she would.

It's scary, how she'd burn down everything and everyone for Raven.

 

 

 

"You're going tomorrow?" Raven asks.

"Yes." Clarke nods.

She needs to lead the guard to Mount Weather, but he's knows she's not really in charge. They're going to listen to Kane. When she asked, they pretended she wasn't just a guide. Clarke knows better.

"Bring 'em back," Raven says.

"I will."

 

 

 

They set out early afternoon. They want to get there at night; they want the cover darkness in hopes that Mount Weather will be unprepared and surprised. Clarke doesn't think it matters much, but Kane insists.

Before they leave, Clarke tugs down the sleeves of Raven's old red jacket.

Raven kisses her goodbye, mouth dry and warm. "You can do this," she says, looking right at her.

 

 

 

"You and Raven, huh?" Finn asks.

Clarke doesn't know how to respond.

She doesn't know how to say he terrifies her. She doesn't know how to tell him she barely has enough left to deal with the fear her own anger ignites in her chest, all-consuming and bloody.

She doesn't know how to tell him she can kill without her hands shaking but she can't touch him without them trembling.

She can murder but she can't love a murderer.

She doesn't respond, so she simply marches forward until she's shoulder-to-shoulder with Bellamy.

 

 

 

Bellamy cries when they find Octavia.

Clarke cries when Monty hugs her, Miller by his side.

There's blood dried on both their faces, lacerations on their arms. 

When Miller says, "We tried to find you," Clarke wipes at her eyes.

Jasper, lacking any blood or scars, at least has the decency to look guilty.

 

 

 

The night they get back to camp, after cleaning everyone up and checking for wounds, Clarke lies down next to Raven.

She's so tired, but Raven throws an arm over her waist and Clarke stares up at the ceiling of their tent. "We can't stay here," she says.

"I know."

"But you like it here." Clarke knows Raven does. Raven likes her mom and she likes tinkering with parts of the Ark that came down. She trusts the adults more then Clarke and Bellamy do, sees the good intentions that Clarke doesn't care think about.

"I know." Raven slips her hands under Clarke's shirt, fingers spread out. "But I know we can't stay here."

"My mom is going to hate me."

"She'll understand."

Clarke falls asleep with Raven's warm breath ghosting over her neck.

 

 

 

Raven asks her once why she keeps wearing that stupid red coat.

Clarke shrugs and shoves her hands in the pockets. "Red's my color."


End file.
